


Brave New World

by clueing_for_looks



Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Inexperience, M/M, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-12 13:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11162868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueing_for_looks/pseuds/clueing_for_looks
Summary: Toby is not comfortable being 'one of those men'....Initially.





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> Just a personal headcanon that Toby wouldn't be instantly at ease with Adil. It would take a while.

Since the wine cellar incident, Adil had been stealing himself for the inevitable; a bloody nose, if Toby didn’t feel his resignation was enough, or a swift call to Mr Garland’s office. Perhaps the worst thing of all would have been no acknowledgement - a cold look and a slammed door. 

But within ten minutes of Adil’s stunted apology, Toby had kissed _him._ It was slow and chaste, and made Adil’s knees bend as if they wanted to touch the floor. Toby’s searching mouth kept him upright, one hand either side of his face. Adil responded, after a few seconds of stunned stillness, with eagerness. 

“What am I doing?” Toby mumbled, when they broke apart. He dropped his hands from where they had been gripping Adil’s face, clenching them together instead. It was said so seriously that Adil laughed, until he caught Toby’s expression. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”  

“You - shouldn’t?”

“No. Of course not. I shouldn’t _want_ to.”

One of Adil’s hands was still entwined around Toby’s tie. He unclenched his fingers, letting the winkled fabric fall. “If you want me to leave –”

Toby clapped a hand on Adil’s shoulder. It was a sporting grip, like they had just played an excellent game of cricket. “Stay.”

Adil waited, trying his hardest to remain completely still. He had the wild thought that perhaps Toby was an undercover policeman. But surely undercover policeman didn’t hold onto your face, or look completely terrified.

“It’s just – difficult. You understand, don’t you? I mean, if anyone understands this it’s you.”

Adil didn’t know how to break down that sentence. “Because…”

“Well. I mean. You’re a man who likes…” Toby waved a hand awkwardly, face flushed.

Adil couldn’t help dropping his eyes to Toby’s mouth. It was drawn into a thin line, a world away from mere moments ago. Despite this, neither of them had stepped back.

“I’ve been thinking about this since – since you kissed me,” Toby continued. “My choice should count for something, don’t you agree? I should have the final say on who I am.”

“I suppose so,” Adil said, privately thinking that choice was a luxury he rarely indulged in. “But I happen to like who you are.”

Toby’s hand dropped off his shoulder abruptly. “Well I – I don’t know if _I_ do. I don’t want to be one of those men.”

The sun falling through the window was lighting the room a pale orange. It would be a lovely morning for Toby to walk to work.

“It’s not as terrible as you think,” Adil said. Any man who was completely opposed to the idea would have smacked him in the jaw by now. Toby's eyes were darting to Adil’s face and away again, not wanting to be caught staring.

Slowly, like approaching a skittish animal, Adil placed a hand on his face. It was not shrugged off or moved away from, so Adil left it there.

“If you give it a little time, you’ll see. You’ll see it’s not terrible at all.”

Toby still looked deeply sceptical, and Adil had to resist wrapping both arms around his shoulders. Instead he tapped a thumb against Toby’s cheek, aiming for a touch devoid of romance.

“Does anyone know?” Toby mumbled. “About you. About this. Have your family ever suspected…”

Adil shook his head – a small lie. His sister had found a letter written to him by an old beau several years ago. It had been foolish to keep it and difficult to explain away. In the end she had looked at him with deep suspicion but chosen to go along with his fabricated story.

Toby’s head hung towards his chest like he was at a funeral.

“Barmen are excellent secret keepers,” Adil assured him, wanting to alleviate some of the pressure in the room. “I’ll vow you an oath of silence right here and now.”

“An oath to your employer?”

_An oath to a lover_. Adil kept the words to himself, knowing that explicitness would not be welcome. “An oath from one man to another,” he said instead.

Toby nodded slowly, eyes on the floor. Adil wondered if by kissing Toby Hamilton he had pledged much more than a vow of silence.

“You won’t regret it,” Adil said, reminding himself why he was here. He was standing in a fancy room of a fancy hotel to be with Toby. Not Mr Hamilton.

Quickly, so not to overthink the move, Adil pressed a kiss against the other boy’s mouth. It was a light, undemanding meeting of mouths and yet Adil’s hand came up automatically. His fingers found familiar ground with Toby’s tie, twisting it as taut as rope.

After a few seconds, a soft brush of fingers cradled Adil’s head in return.

*

Adil had known two other men before Toby. One was a man who worked with his father, and the other was a boy he had met by chance in the market. Both had been slightly older, and Adil had relied on their patience and good humour to combat his own inexperience. 

Now that he was experiencing things from the other side, Adil wondered if his previous partners felt the same burden of responsibility. Adil wanted to lead by example, to remove the fear and replace it with excitement. Toby was a much more difficult pupil than he had expected.

“How is this going to work?” Toby asked him more than once, despite having his hands tangled in Adil’s hair. “We’re leading completely different lives.”

“I know, I know.” Adil had to resist saying the words ‘it will all be alright’, because weak platitudes only fuelled Toby’s doubts. 

“If my mother finds out –”

“She won’t.”

Toby’s teeth scraped over Adil’s bottom lip. “She’s better than an investigative journalist.”

“Toby, she doesn’t know I _exist_.”

Toby’s hands were clenched in the lapels of Adil’s waistcoat, their foreheads continually knocking together.

Many times over the past two days, Adil had almost said ‘so why are you doing this?’ whenever Toby began grilling him with questions. They ranged from the practical ‘what if someone sees you come into my room’ to ‘do you think there’s something wrong with my brain’. It was difficult to answer coherently when Toby’s mouth was speaking the words directly into his.

Instinctively, Adil knew that if he asked Toby ‘so why are you doing this’ in the middle of an embrace, it might break whatever tenuous connection they had.

“I – have – to – go – to – work – now,” Toby said, kissing Adil between each word. When he pulled back and looked Adil in the eye, he became much less coherent. “This was, um, great. Thank you for –”

Adil quickly pressed a finger over Toby’s mouth, stilling the nonsense. “Have a good day at work,” he said, before leaving the room.

*

Stopping Toby’s brain from over-analysing every interaction had become Adil’s new goal.

His biggest achievement so far had been when he had pulled on Toby’s hair and managed to stop the sentence “when I get married” in its tracks.

_Do you like that?_ he wanted to ask, as Toby’s mouth opened and shut silently. He tried it again, slightly harder, and fingernails scraped down his face.  

*

Toby sometimes avoided his mouth. He would open the door and smuggle Adil inside, but step back clumsily afterwards, hands behind his back. 

Which was _fine,_ Adil reminded himself. In those situations he leant against the wall and told Toby meaningless gossip from downstairs. 

They were in a constant push and pull situation. Toby veered back and forth between affection and formality which could change from hour to hour. Some days he looked at Adil with an alarming amount of hunger, pulling on his clothes and biting his mouth. Other days he seemed to want to shake Adil’s hand, like old school friends reunited.

Knocking on Toby’s door was a game of Russian roulette.

“I think I’m sick,” Toby said, when Adil knocked quietly and brought in a tray of coffee. He looked the same as always, but the bed was covered in books and his hair was more disordered than usual.

“Sorry to hear that,” Adil said, setting the tray down. The day before had been kinetic, frantic hands running over necks and faces. It usually followed that the day after was one of internal conflict. “Shall I ask the front desk to telephone for a doctor?”

“Why?” Toby said, distractedly. He was pulling books out of his shelves, looking for something. When he finally located an Oscar Wilde novel and flicked it open, Adil rolled his eyes heavenward and picked the tray back up. He expected Toby wouldn't even notice he had taken it.

*

When Toby threw open the door the following day, Adil was dragged inside. The lock was turned with a quick movement and Toby gripped the back of Adil’s neck to bring him in for a bruising kiss.

“Feeling better?” Adil asked, trying to inject some normalcy. He was being walked backwards, and he didn’t realise why until the back of his knees bumped into Toby’s bed. Adil sat down instinctively, and was quickly pushed onto his back.

“Um, Toby –” Adil tried, but there was suddenly a body on top of his, and a mouth urgently connecting with everything it could. “Toby –” The words in Adil’s throat turned to nothing.

It was entirely pleasant and irresistible. He didn’t realise how much he had missed this; the ability to let his body relax and feel exactly how it wanted to.

After a few minutes Adil gripped Toby’s upper arms and used the weight of his body to roll over, reversing their positions. Toby on his back was a sight to behold. He mumbled a little when Adil stroked up his side, moving under his shirt to caress stomach and ribs.

“I – like you – like this,” Adil managed to say, interlinking their fingers. “You look so beautiful –”

Toby sat bolt upright, almost cracking their heads together. 

“I’m not a girl,” Toby told him forcefully. Adil sat back, putting some space between them to void further collision. He could see that he had pushed Toby slightly further than he was willing to go.

Kissing was fine. Laying on the bed was fine. But kissing on the bed with another boy on top of him – that was most certainly _not_ fine.

Toby’s face was stern but also terrified, like Adil was holding a knife to his neck.

Carefully, so not to create additional insult, Adil gripped Toby’s other hand too. It was warm and clammy, as if they were in the middle of a kitchen rather than a bedroom.

“I know you’re not,” Adil said firmly. If Toby was a girl they wouldn’t be doing this.

Toby’s chin dipped, looking at their joined hands. “Right,” he said, as Adil squeezed their fingers. “Just so we’re clear.”

Adil smiled, laying down beside Toby and pulling the other boy on top of him. “Crystal.”

*

“We don’t really know each other,” Toby said, after Adil had snuck upstairs on his work break.

Toby didn’t seem inclined to touch him that evening, which was perfectly fine. He was keeping to the edges of the room, pretending to tidy his desk and neaten the various knickknacks on the surrounding shelves.

“You mean you don’t know _me_ ,” Adil said, sitting on one of the armchairs as a tray of coffee got colder and colder. “I know quite a lot about you. Are you going to drink this?”

Toby shook his head - he didn't order drinks to enjoy then, merely as an excuse for Adil to climb the stairs with a tray in his hand. “Knowing things about the family isn’t the same as knowing things about me.”

Adil wondered what it was Toby wanted to tell him, and if he would have to work all night to extract the information. He took a sip of the coffee. It was bitter and warm and Mr Garland would cry real tears if he knew it was being wasted on a member of staff.

“Would it help if you knew that I’ve never seen the sea? Or that it takes me fifteen minutes to walk to work in the mornings?”

 Toby shot him a glance that said ‘be serious’. He was trying to organise his bookcase, but Adil noticed that he was simply sliding the books out and holding them for a few seconds before reinserting them into the same place. The Oscar Wilde book was nowhere to be seen.

“Getting to know each other is half the fun,” Adil said. From the hunch of Toby’s back he deduced that it was not fun for both of them. Adil put the cup down, drawing Toby’s eyes onto him.

“All you need to know is that I’m trustworthy. I meant what I said on that first night: I will never say a word about you.”

Toby tutted, as if the answer were obvious, but some of the tension left his shoulders.

*

Adil’s fingers began to unbutton Toby’s shirt, working from the bottom. When he reached the collar he gave it a tug, but the clothing stayed exactly where it was. Adil broke the kiss, pulling back to glance down. While he had been unbuttoning, Toby’s fingers had been one step behind, doing them straight back up.

“Are you alright?” Adil checked, looking at the one measly place on Toby he had exposed – a small amount of neck.

“I’m great,” Toby said, capturing his mouth so there could be no more talking. His own hands dropped to waist level, sneaking under the hem of Adil’s shirt and vest. His hands were boiling, searing into Adil’s skin.

“Because it seems like –”

Toby bit his lip, and Adil found that he quite liked that. The hands on his waist were hesitantly moving higher, until before long Adil’s clothing was rucked up ridiculously around his chest.

“Ok,” Adil said, taking a step back. “Hold on a second.” The moment they were apart Toby snatched his hands back, like he had been ordered to. Adil quickly wrenched off his shirt, not caring if the buttons tore. The vest followed and he dropped them both to the floor.

There didn’t seem to be a way to leap back in. Adil pressed a careful kiss to Toby’s mouth, and then a second one which lingered. It was like the last ten minutes did not exist, and they were starting from scratch.

“I can put it back on,” Adil offered, reaching for the shirt. “If it’s too much, too soon.”  

Toby gripped his arm, preventing him from picking up the shirt. He shook his head and Adil waited. The hand holding Adil’s arm loosened but did not retreat, instead moving upwards, following the line of his collarbone and then dipping down to his chest.

 Toby’s hand paused over his heart, and his eyes flicked to Adil’s.

“Stressed?” he asked.

“Excited,” Adil replied.

Toby’s hand moved on, tracing over Adil’s ribs. Adil’s muscles tensed at the unbearable tickling sensation.

“Don’t you eat?” Toby asked, his brow furrowed.

“Of course I do,” Adil said, stung. He was aware that it was unflattering to look quite so gaunt but there were other things to spend money on. He had just sent a large portion of his wages home to his mother and father. 

Adil was caught by surprise at the rapidly increasing eagerness of Toby’s hands. They moved up and down his back, pushed at his stomach, brushed over his nipples, and made him break off laughing when they stroked his ribs.

“Ticklish,” Adil said instantly, before insecurity could set in. “Nothing more.” Toby looked like he wanted to let go, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Adil placed a hand lightly over Toby’s wrist, hoping to convey the invitation.

Toby’s fingers drummed on him like a heartbeat.

“Can I, um, kiss you?” Adil asked. It seemed barmy to request it, given that Toby often launched at him without warning. But Toby often launched himself away from Adil as well.

Toby gave a jerky nod like he was agreeing to open heart surgery. “Don’t worry,” he said, and it was unclear who the message was meant for.

The room was growing dark around them, but Toby rarely moved to turn lights on. He seemed comfortable to let the world fade out around him, even if he was reading. It was a peculiarity that Adil didn’t try to understand.

When Adil’s hand burrowed up Toby’s shirt the kisses grew abruptly uncoordinated, like a supreme amount of brain power was being diverted to process the touch. Toby’s mouth slid off to the side and then shut completely.

“I have to go back to work soon,” Adil reminded him, to gloss over the awkwardness. One of Toby’s thumbs was still resting over his belly button, running back and forth over the hollow. Adil stepped back and Toby immediately snatched his hands away. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I – well. I suppose so. I’ve got a free evening. Do you want to?”

Adil sighed. Toby’s eyes flicked covertly down to his chest, cataloguing what he had been blindly touching.

“I’ll see tomorrow,” Adil said, tugging his clothes back on and fastening his blazer. He pressed a light kiss to Toby’s jaw, savouring the moment before he left the room.

* 

The next morning, Lady Hamilton, Freddie and Toby were all seated at a small table, engaged in conversation over drinks. Freddie had chosen the seat facing the stage, leaving Toby with a chair facing the bar.

Adil had given him a warm smile when their eyes met, and Toby’s face had flushed a shocking shade of red. Having his family and Adil in the same room seemed to be something of a nightmare.

Adil’s resolve to leave them completely alone was broken when Lady Hamilton raised her hand for service. Being the only barman on duty that early in the day, Adil walked out from behind the counter and approached their table.

“Yes, I’ll have a White Russian, no ice. Freddie?”

“Just a top up.”

“Toby?”

Toby’s face looked like it was burning. His eyes were fixed resolutely on his glass, not moving at all.

“Toby, Mother asked you a question.”

Lady Hamilton reached out and gripped Toby’s hand on the top of the tablecloth.

“Darling, are you –”

“ _Fine_. I’m fine. Nothing for me, thank you.” His eyes studiously avoided Adil, looking instead at his mother’s hand resting on his.

Adil said ‘yes sir’ and moved back to the bar to fix the drinks.    

*

That evening, when he had expected nothing between them whatsoever, Adil was pulled into the room by his lapels. He did not even manage to say a greeting before Toby was on him, pressing their bodies together like they were in a confined space.

“Hello –” Adil tried, but it was quickly cut off.   

Toby’s hands were either side of his head, gripping Adil’s jaw like he was holding him still for a medical procedure. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, but Adil felt that contact was always preferable over no contact.

“Did you see them looking at us?” Toby said in a rush, breaking off to kiss Adil’s cheeks and his throat. “I think Freddie knows. He must do. Don’t you think? It was all so bloody obvious. I thought I was going to _die._ ”

Toby was mumbling against Adil’s neck, repeating the word ‘die’ over and over again.

“Well I am very glad you’re still with us,” Adil said. Personally, he had not even see Freddie look up, let alone cotton on to some larger conspiracy. 

Toby sighed, the breath hot on Adil’s jaw. He pressed a final quick kiss to Adil’s throat and released his hold.

“You can – if you want,” he said, gesturing to Adil’s torso. It was said flippantly, but the same burning scarlet had settled across Toby’s face. Knowing it was as close as he would get to ‘let me see you naked’, Adil deftly undid the buttons of his blazer and shirt and laid them over the nearest chair.

“More?” Adil said, pushing his luck as he rested his thumbs in his waistband. Toby’s eyes flicked to his waist and away again, performing a complicated half-shrug.

“I’m going to need a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ here.” He had never spoken to an aristocrat so brazenly before. It brought its own thrill of excitement, and Adil’s hands were on his belt before Toby had uttered a word.

“No,” Toby said, making Adil still completely. “Just – just the top half. That’s fine.”

_Are you sure_ , Adil wanted to ask. His blood was thrumming, his body was more than interested. He re-buckled the belt and Toby approached him. “Ok,” he said, the word slightly strangled.

One of Toby’s hands skated up and down his body, coming to rest over the left side of his chest.   

Toby muttered something into Adil’s mouth, but he didn’t have the first clue what it was.

*

“Do you believe in God?” Toby asked, as they sat opposite each other in the twin armchairs.

The coffee cup that had been brought up on the tray was in front of Adil, and he was taking small sips of the bitter liquid. For the last few days Toby had also been ordering room service, with no intention of eating it himself.

They had settled into a strange routine, in which Adil ate the food and Toby sat quietly, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Today’s meal was toad in the hole, and Adil wasn’t sure if he could enjoy the meal while discussing religion.

“I go to church sometimes,” Adil supplied, wary of the question. “Why, do you?”

“Of course I go to church,” Toby said.

They remained silent for a while, as Adil finished the coffee and Toby continued to look faraway.

*

Whenever they kissed, Toby’s hands gravitated up to grab Adil’s face and neck. It wasn’t a bad thing, but Adil sometimes got the feeling he was being kept in place rather than caressed.

“Not so tight,” he mumbled against Toby’s mouth, when the hands around his chin were like a vice.

Toby let go of him completely which was the opposite of what Adil wanted. When Toby took a step away Adil reinserted himself into the new space, gripping Toby’s hips. 

“I like it,” he said reassuringly, “but don’t bruise me. Mr Garland will think I've been fighting.”

He kissed Toby again, trying to resume the moment. Toby returned the action with his hands at his sides, the movements now hesitant and uncoordinated.

It was like kissing someone he had never met.

It quickly became apparent that Toby didn’t know how to kiss him properly without holding him in place.

Adil brought one of Toby’s hands up to his face, placing it on his cheek before continuing. The escalation in performance was extraordinary. 

Adil decided he would think about the psychology of the action later. 

*

“Stop trying to remove my clothes.”

Adil closed his eyes and sighed, resting his forehead on Toby’s shoulder. He had tried nothing of the sort, merely sliding a hand under Toby’s waistcoat to touch his back.

“Maybe if you did it yourself I wouldn’t have to behave in such a despicable manner.”

Toby’s hands were always all over him, which Adil found both exhilarating and one-sided. Since removing his shirt a week ago, Toby seemed to think everything under it was fair game.

“I want to touch you,” Adil said honestly, as Toby’s fingers ghosted over his nipple and away again. “Even if you’ve got blue scaly skin and a third eye. I want to see.”

“I haven’t got blue skin,” Toby mumbled, one hand stroking through Adil’s hair. The touch was calm and affectionate, and it made Adil even more convinced that he wanted to know absolutely everything about Toby Hamilton.

They had progressed a long way in a relatively short space of time. Toby was content to lay side by side or on top of him, until Adil tried to look into his eyes or speak. They had also had another minor incident when Adil had forgot himself and rolled on top. Toby had instinctively shoved him, and Adil had narrowly avoided falling off the bed.

After so many trips to Toby’s room, Adil was now fully versed in their limitations.

“I thought all sporting young men took communal showers at school?” Adil said, as Toby continued to card his fingers across his head.

“Correct,” Toby said, reluctantly. “But in that situation one looks at the wall.”

Adil lifted his head to press a kiss to Toby’s mouth. “I can look at the wall,” he said. He rested a finger against Toby’s top button, waiting.

Predictably, Toby lifted a hand and clamped it over Adil’s finger. His Adam’s apple was moving constantly, like he was swallowing multiple times.

“Not yet.”

Adil wondered if there would ever come a point at which Toby stopped believing in the horde of imaginary reporters who were lurking just outside the door.   

“I mean, _you_ can,” Toby continued. “I want to see all of you. But…” He ran a hand over Adil’s jaw, brushing forward and back over the stubble.

Adil had long suspected that as far as Toby’s brain was concerned, stripping off and enjoying himself was a point he could not retreat from. With the way things currently stood, if things went bad Toby’s reputation would take a gentle knock. If he progressed further he risked becoming, heart and soul, ‘one of those men’.

“I don’t mind,” Adil said, honestly.

Toby kissed him so hard that Adil’s lips felt crushed. With nimble fingers, Adil’s shirt was pulled from his shoulders and his vest stripped over his head. When half of his body was on show, Toby pressed a hasty kiss to each side of his chest.

“Would you…” Toby said, tapping a finger to Adil’s belt. “Do you want…”

Adil hesitated for a few seconds before undoing the buckle and shimmying his trousers down. He kicked them off and then waited, wondering if Toby would change his mind. When there was no protest, he hesitantly removed his underwear too.

All signs of excitement below the waist were now evident, despite the anxiety in Adil’s chest. He wanted to shuffle closer to Toby so there was less room to look, to take himself off the imaginary stage.

“Is this –” he began, wanting to check if the situation was acceptable. The last word was lost as Adil suddenly found himself with an armful of Toby Hamilton. It was a frenzied attack of the mouth; their bodies halfway on top of each other. Toby was repeating something that sounded like ‘God help me’ into the crook of Adil’s neck.

“Alright,” Adil said weakly, as Toby kissed his cheek, nose and forehead in quick succession. “Not too uncomfortable then.” He was painfully aware that he was naked in the arms of his fully clothed employer, pressed up against Toby’s work suit.

*

After several more instances of embarrassment, Adil got used to being unclothed while Toby was not. It greatly helped that Toby’s eyes seemed glued to him, and that with every passing day his hands moved lower.

“Just the shirt,” Adil begged, after they had been meeting in Toby’s room for nearly a month. “Just take off your shirt, just once. If you hate it you can put it straight back on.”

They were lying beside each other on Toby’s bed, and one of Toby’s hands was between Adil’s legs, slowly stroking his inner thigh. It felt obscenely intimate, and Adil had been keeping quiet for more than half an hour. The fingertips trailing across his skin were unbearably light. 

“ _Toby_.”

Toby sat up, catching Adil’s serious tone.

“Now?” he asked, like they were in the middle of a formal dinner dance. Adil reached for Toby’s collar but the other boy pulled back, getting off the bed completely.

“Why not now?” Adil asked, sitting up as well. He waited for an excuse but none seemed forthcoming. “I’m not someone you met yesterday, desperate to take your money and sell you out. If I was going to tell the world I would have done it weeks ago.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Toby said, his tone remarkably stubborn. “Well, not just trust. It’s a matter of…I don’t know. Aesthetics.”

Adil considered leaving the room and going home. “I don’t know what ‘aesthetics’ means,” he said, through clenched teeth. Knowing Toby, it was probably a fancy word for 'morality'. 

Toby looked at him, watching the badly concealed frustration rise to the surface. Just as Adil was trying to get himself back under control, Toby said ‘fine’ very quietly.

He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the floor, his vest following directly after.

Adil got up from his place on the bed, momentarily speechless. He reached out for Toby’s chest but didn’t touch, keeping his hand hovering a few inches away.

“Are these from…”

“Schoolyard antics? Yes.”

“But –” 

“You wouldn’t understand unless you’ve been to public school.”

“But –”

“It was just a game.” 

There were six perfectly circular burns on Toby’s chest, brown and discoloured. They stood in stark contrast to the pale skin, the edges red and blistered.

“They look –”

“Disgusting, I know.”

Adil reached out and gripped Toby’s shoulders harshly. “ _Painful_ , I was going to say. Why would someone do that to you?”

Toby looked at him strangely. "One for every time -" he started to say, before thinking better of it. “You know how teenage boys are.”

Adil thought that he did not know how teenage boys were at all. He was also trying to grapple with the notion that Toby had been comfortable displaying his body at school. The same body that Adil had been trying (and failing) to glimpse for nearly a month. “Do they hurt?” he asked.

Toby grabbed one of Adil’s hands and laid it on his chest. “No,” he said, simply. “Feels like nothing.”

Despite the bravado, Adil skated around touching the burns directly. He kept his hands moving, wondering how much pain Toby must have been in when a cigarette was put out on his body.

“Cigar,” Toby corrected, when Adil mumbled the thought out loud. “It was after our exams in the upper sixth, so we were smoking cigars.” 

*

They were once again sitting across from each other, Toby with his legs tucked up in the armchair.

Adil was eating beef with steamed vegetables, which was better than he could have imagined. Chef really did pull out all the stops for the hotel guests.

Weeks ago when they had begun this ritual, Adil had tried to eat as slowly and with as much decorum as possible. Now he wolfed down whatever was put in front of him. Toby always watched him eat with a look of concentration.

“My second cousin, Arnold, I think he was like us,” Toby said, as Adil devoured his green beans.

“Devilishly handsome?” Adil suggested, the words muffled through a throatful of food.

Toby shook his head. “I never thought of it at the time, but looking back I can see it clearly. He was sent off to a private hospital in the country, and nobody ever mentioned why. Even after he came back they wouldn’t let him…he wasn’t…”

Adil put down his knife and fork, watching Toby’s face work through several emotions.

“He dropped off the social scene. He didn’t come to family parties. I remember asking Mother about it and she said he had become a recluse. But before that he was so loud and brash. A bit of an imbecile, really. A hilarious dancer.”

Adil got up from his chair and sat on the coffee table facing Toby. He was probably disrespecting an ancient piece of Hamilton furniture with the action.

“That won’t happen to you,” Adil said, firmly. “It shouldn’t have happened to him, and it will never happen to you.”

Toby laughed, the sound quiet and abrupt. “And how will you stop the whole country spitting on me in the streets? Or beating me to a bloody pulp down a back alley?”

Adil stood up, and Toby eventually copied the movement so they were chest to chest. Adil placed a hand on the back of Toby’s neck, stroking a finger slowly up and down.

“Don’t you believe in justice?” Adil asked. “Good men deserve good lives. You’re going to have the very best.”

It wasn’t really an answer to the questions.

*

“Can I see you yet?” Adil asked, trying to keep the petulant tone at bay. It had been almost five weeks and Toby still had not stripped down to anything below his waist. Whenever Adil waited naked and eager on the bed he was joined by a partially-clothed Toby; still stubbornly wearing his trousers.

“You’re so demanding,” Toby said, as they lay side by side.

He had no problem looking at Adil, which seemed to be a good sign. His eyes wondered all over him, as well as exploring fingers. Adil was allowed to return the favour…to an extent.

“It’s not exactly fair play,” Adil mumbled, as Toby’s eyes flicked covertly to his crotch and away again.

“Britain didn’t build her empire on ‘fair play’.”

There was something deeply traditional beaten into Toby’s soul that Adil despaired of. Perhaps it was the lonely school days trapped in a boarding house with a hundred other boys that had done it. Or the even lonelier days spent in a hotel avoiding his father. Whatever the case, Adil wanted to shake it out of him.

“You might enjoy it.” It was the strongest weapon in Adil’s arsenal of reasoning. He rested both hands on Toby’s thighs, feeling the skin radiating heat through the fabric. “I think you will find it very satisfactory indeed. I bet my job on it.”

Toby placed his own hands on Adil’s thighs, so their positions were a mirror image. Adil felt his stomach clench at the proximity of Toby’s hands to his lap.

“So that means if I don’t enjoy it I have to fire you? Seems a bit risky.”

Adil bit his lip, imagining telling a future employer that he had been sacked for commanding Mr Hamilton to remove his trousers. 

“I am asking you to trust me,” Adil said, in a measured tone. “Nothing more, nothing less. In fact, I promise to keep my hands to myself. We can just…relax.”

Adil rolled off the bed and got to his feet, stretching. Toby’s eyes tracked over his body, head to toe. Adil permitted the attention for a second before walking over to the bookcase and selecting a title. Nearly all of Toby’s books were academic, so it took a while to locate a mystery novel shoved right to the back.  

When he turned back to the bed, Adil saw Toby was stood beside it, slowly unbuckling his belt.

“I’m not committing myself to anything,” Toby said, and Adil schooled his features into disinterest.

“Of course not.”

Adil resumed his seat propped against the headboard, resting the book on his stomach.

Toby had managed the belt but slowed down considerably with the trouser buttons. His fingers were fiddling back and forth, like every decision they made was undone before it could take effect.

“Need a hand?” Adil asked, politely.

Toby shook his head and swallowed a deep breath of air. He flicked the buttons and pushed the trousers down to his knees in one movement, kicking them off. They lay crumpled and forgotten on the floor, next to his shirt and vest. 

Despite his promise not to touch, Adil badly wanted to explore the new skin on show.

“You’ve got really nice knees,” he told Toby, who laughed a little at the sincerity.

“Nice how? Youthful? Aristocratic?”

“‘Aristocratic knees’ are ten a’penny. Yours are just – lovely.”

The compliment brought some colour into Toby’s cheeks. His thumbs were in the waistband of his underwear, toying with the material. Adil watched, trying not to appear half as interested as he was.

“Trust me,” Adil reminded him.

“Sure,” Toby replied. “Trust you, sure.”

Adil felt like he waited an age for the last garment to fall. It was done in under a second with an audible swear word, and Toby’s whole body went a stunning brick-red. Contrary to what Adil expected, Toby appeared frozen by his own boldness, not attempting to protect his modesty or resume sitting on the bed.

“Are you…alright?” Adil checked.

Toby nodded fiercely, like there was a spring loose in his neck. The blush covering most of his body looked like sunburn.

Unable to help himself, Adil dropped his eyes down to examine the new visual information. It was ordinary. But it was also extraordinary.  

“Thank you,” Adil said, adjusting his gaze back to Toby’s face.

“Stop talking.”

“I will. But thank you anyway.”

Toby gave a very stiff nod but still didn’t move.

“There’s also, um. Something else. The thing is…”

Adil waited patiently, watching Toby’s words trip over themselves. After a minute or so of stops and starts, Toby simply turned around. Adil kept himself seated, refusing to act how he wanted to.

The back of Toby’s legs and backside were covered in thin red welts, like something out of a medieval play. Adil felt a corresponding 'something' burning in his gut.

“Did your _school_ –”

“No. God, no. They use canes at Eton, they barely mark. This was just…discipline.”

_I want to piss on your Father’s grave_ , Adil thought, looking at the crisscross of lines. _No, I want to dig up his body and piss on that too_. The marks were faded and healed but still plainly visible. 

Adil got off the bed and hastily pulled his underwear over his legs. He tossed Toby his dressing gown and the other boy caught it with a look of confusion.

The cord had barely been tied when Adil stepped forward and embraced Toby as hard as he could. The answering grip of arms around his back was slow but eventually strong.

They did not speak again for the next few hours, but little by little it grew more comfortable. Toby also picked a book from the shelf and they sat side by side, turning pages.

“I’m sorry to speak ill of the dead, but I truly hate your father.” The thought had been on Adil’s mind for the entire evening. It felt cathartic to get it out, even if it was deeply disrespectful.

Toby closed his book to consider these words. “I think a lot of people did,” he said.

Their ankles crossed over each other, and the sun painted the far wall a vivid red. 

When Adil began dressing to go home, Toby remained in his dressing gown, sprawled on the sheets. One of his bare knees was exposed, and Adil reached out to touch it before leaving, like caressing it would bring good luck.   

*

Adil broke off from kissing Toby to flick him on the ear.

“ _Ow_ – what?”

“Stop thinking about your mother.”

Toby stared at him, mouth slightly open. “Are you some kind of magician?”

Adil rolled his eyes, rubbing the ear apologetically where he had flicked it. “No,” he said. Toby was lying between his legs, using his body like a large cushion. “No magic required. I can feel when you’re here and when you’re not.”

Toby dropped his head forward with a sigh, so he was completely covering Adil's chest. His hair was tickling Adil’s chin, but neither had the energy to move away.

“She’s set me up with a family friend,” Toby mumbled. He pressed a small kiss to Adil’s chest after the words, seemingly without thought. “I don’t like thinking about the future.”

Adil wondered if there was anything he could do to counter this, and thought of nothing. He rested a hand between Toby’s shoulder blades, stroking them in silent apology.

*

When he was finally touched, Adil wondered how he had any stamina left at all. Toby’s eyes were flicking from his hand to Adil’s face and back, carefully cataloguing each wince and muscle spasm.

The movements sped up and slowed down, and Adil presumed Toby was employing the technique he used on himself. When the staring became too intense, Adil had to rest a hand over his own eyes. Toby stopped moving entirely until Adil removed it again with a groan.

“I can’t tell if it’s correct unless I see your expression.”

“Believe me, it’s correct.”

“I still need to see.”

Adil changed tactics, pushing Toby’s face away instead. Toby grabbed the hand and held it by the wrist. His other hand was still moving rhythmically, eyes darting across Adil’s face.

“Are you sure this is –”

“Yes, I’m sure!” 

Toby sighed and kissed him, just as Adil’s whole body coiled tight. He accidentally bit down hard on Toby’s lip, his back arching off the bed. The pleasure was longer and better than when he did this to himself.

“Ouch,” Toby said, when Adil released him. His lip was bloody, like he had just walked off a rugby field. “Does this sort of thing usually end in bodily harm?”

“Not…usually,” Adil said, slowly coming back to earth. “How are you feeling? Was that – are you –” 

“I’m fine,” Toby said. “That was…more than fine. Give me a minute.” He crawled off Adil’s body and walked to the bathroom, slightly bow-legged. By the time Adil realised what had happened, the opportunity had been missed.

*

Adil had to hide in the bathroom when room service knocked on the door. When he returned, Toby had set a bowl of ice-cream down on the table.

“You have no idea how good this is,” Adil said around a spoon, wanting the taste to stay on his tongue forever. “If you did you wouldn’t have given this to me. You’d have kept it all for yourself.”

“Yes, because I’m that greedy,” Toby said. His chin was propped up on his hand, watching Adil slowly devour it, spoonful by spoonful. “I didn’t know you liked ice-cream.”

“Neither did I. Never had it before.”

Toby watched him, his whole body calm and languid. When Adil’s spoon began scraping the dish for the melted parts, a smile broke out across his face.

“I think I like this,” Toby said.

Adil looked up, not sure what they were talking about.

“I think I like…us.” Toby’s eyes had fallen shut, like he was relaxed enough to fall asleep. “At the start I was wondering how to change it, how stop feeling all this. Now I know that I don’t want to.”  

Adil set aside the dish, getting up from his armchair and crossing to Toby’s. He sat across Toby’s legs, pushing away the thought that he was probably too heavy for all that.

Toby didn’t seem to care. His arms came up under Adil’s knees and across his back, like he was about to lift the shorter boy through a doorway. 

“I like us too,” Adil said, sealing the words with a cold, vanilla-tasting kiss.

*

After five and a half weeks of hesitation and doubt, Adil was finally permitted to reach out and _touch_. (They had checked the door was locked a grand total of four times.)

“Is this ok?” Adil asked, as Toby panted against his neck and gripped his available hand so hard it hurt.

“Yes,” Toby mumbled. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Outside in the hallway they could hear a married couple bickering. Anytime the wife’s voice grew shrill, Adil had to kiss Toby thoroughly to keep him occupied. He estimated they had been going for around five minutes before Toby’s body turned a startling shade of red.

“I need to stop,” Toby said urgently, and Adil almost rolled straight off him and onto the floor.

“Sure,” Adil said, scooting to the other side of the mattress. “Did I hurt you or –?”

Toby’s whole body was flushed and his breath was heavier than if he had been running. “I think I need to…Take a break.” He lurched off the bed and walked quickly to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Adil fell back onto the pillows. He didn’t want to grab Toby’s hand, or force him to stay. They were moving slowly, one step at a time, edging ever closer to an invisible finish line.

Trying to stay in the mood, he touched himself hurriedly, imagining the scene from just moments before. He finished in under a minute, but had to wait an additional twenty for Toby to come back into the room.

“Oh,” Toby said, when he saw Adil now wearing his clothes and sitting up against the headboard. He rubbed a hand over his hair, which he had groomed and slicked back down while in the bathroom.

Adil wondered what he had expected to walk back into. He hadn’t moved much since Toby left the room, but it seemed uncivilised to sit naked and unclean while he waited.

“You’re still here,” Toby said, perplexed.

“I am very hard to get rid of,” Adil assured him.  

“Tenacity is one of your finest traits,” Toby mumbled, climbing back onto the bed and throwing an arm over Adil’s waist.

*

Adil worried that he was becoming addicted to coffee. The times he spent in Toby’s room were increasing day by day, and Toby seemed perfectly content to talk about nothing as Adil sipped and relished the drink.

“I’m sorry if I’ve triggered the habit of a lifetime,” Toby said, when Adil looked mournfully at the empty cup. “Your birthday is in November, right? I’ll get you a jar for your apartment.”

It probably wouldn’t taste the same in Adil’s apartment. Part of the appeal was that Toby was opposite him whenever he had it, talking nonsense.

“Where do you think you’ll be in a year” was Toby’s current topic, his legs curled up comfortably on his chair.

“Nobody knows where they’ll be in a year,” Adil said, knowing the unasked question and skirting around it neatly. “Will we still be at war? If so then I might be at the front.”

“I don’t think you'd like it. There’s no coffee at the front.”

Adil beamed at him. It had taken a lot to progress to the point of jokes. Seeing Toby relaxed made Adil absurdly happy.

“And to think I would have gone all that way," he said, seriously. "You’ve saved me a trip. How about your good self? Married with an heir?”

“Might be difficult. We’ll have to find a blind minister, or one who won’t care that you’re a boy in a dress. There’s a lot of orphans around too, shall we have one of those?”

“I think I’d rather we lived alone,” Adil said. “We could spend Christmas with your family though, here at the hotel.”

Toby’s grin was huge. Adil wondered if they were picturing the same scene, of the two of them sat at a Christmas dinner table with Lady Hamilton and Freddie.

“It would be memorable,” Toby said, truthfully.

*

Where the turning point was, Adil couldn’t have told you. It seemed to come out of nothing, with no special build up or reason. It just happened one day that Adil was allowed to stay the entire night, wrapped up with Toby in a nest of blankets. 

Toby did not run to the bathroom, or remember a sudden ‘errand’ to take him away. When he touched Adil it was slow and measured, the actions having new weight.

It was a special privilege, watching Toby Hamilton fall apart.   

“I love you,” Adil said, drawing a pattern around the burn marks on Toby’s chest. He wasn’t sure if there would ever be an appropriate time to say it. It was early afternoon on a Saturday, and Toby had a book propped up against Adil’s side.

At the words, Toby’s eyes flicked up from his current page.

“If it’s one tenth of how I feel for you, I shall take it as the highest compliment.”

Adil smiled broadly, linking their hands together as Toby kept reading.

*

Slowly, insecurities began to fall away.

“Can I be on top?” Adil asked, as he lay on his back with Toby’s body covering his.

Something inside Toby still seemed invested in the idea of ‘man on top’. Adil didn’t mind it much at all, but wondered if Toby might secretly enjoy a change around. There was a long pause after Adil’s question where Toby said nothing.

Adil said “Forget I mentioned it” at the exact time that Toby said “Yes.”

*

There were still days in which Toby looked physically ill, usually after having dinner with his family. On such days they tended to sit in comfortable silence.

“I met her today,” Toby said, apparently needing to talk about it.

Adil put down the newspaper he had been flicking through. Toby’s face looked pale and sickly, like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. If he didn’t have direct evidence to the contrary, Adil would have rushed him into bed.

“And is she…nice?” Adil asked cautiously.

“I don’t care,” Toby said, fumbling with his tie and toeing off his shoes. “I don’t care if she’s the nicest, prettiest, most witty girl in England. I don’t _care_. I didn’t feel a thing.”

When he had divested himself of his suit, Toby flopped down onto the bed, crawling forwards until his head was resting in Adil’s lap.

“This is so unfair,” Toby said, for the first time in weeks.

Adil rested a hand on Toby’s shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “I know it is,” he said. “But your body can’t help how you feel. Nature is rarely fair.”

Toby twisted around, so that he was facing Adil.

“That’s not the unfair bit,” he said. “The awful bit is that I love you and I can’t say it. I can’t tell a single person. I can't even tell _her_ to leave me alone."

It was the first time Adil had heard an ‘I love you’ out of Toby’s mouth.  

“What are you grinning about?” Toby said sulkily, poking Adil in the stomach.

“Nothing,” Adil said, his smile so wide it hurt. “Absolutely nothing.”

*

““I don’t think what you’re asking is physically possible,” Toby said, sceptically. “Our bodies weren’t designed to do that.”

It was seven weeks after their kiss in the wine cellar, and Adil now felt like he knew Toby’s body as well as he knew his own. They were laying on the bed, with Toby flat on his back and Adil laying between his legs.

Adil shook his head. Toby’s ‘date’ had not worked out, and the surge of relief had made their time together more tactile. “I think your body knows what you want better than you do,” Adil promised. “It will work, I know it.”

Toby frowned, but his hand continued carding through Adil’s hair. “Right. Because you’ve done this before.” There was a slightly accusing tone to the words which Adil ignored.

“Not with someone I loved. Not with you.”

In truth, they had had this discussion several times. The first time Adil had brought it up as a possibility, Toby had flushed and evaded the topic, causing Adil to let it go without regret. All the subsequent times however, Toby had been the one to mention it.

“I just don’t know how it would go. We won’t fit together.” His finger stroked over Adil’s neck, barely touching. “I don’t want to look like a fool.”

“Try to remember that it’s only in front of me. Not a panel of your peers.”

“‘Only’ in front of you. Sure.”

Adil pulled Toby’s face towards him for a kiss. It was given reluctantly, Toby’s brain still rushing ahead. 

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“More than anyone.”

“So what’s the worst that could happen?” Adil knew that Toby was thinking about Mr O’Hara just a few rooms away, or that somehow the door would swing open with Mr Garland’s master key. “Let’s put a pin in it,” Adil suggested, for what must have been the third or fourth time. “All of this stress is unnecessary. I’m wonderfully happy with our current situation.”

Toby’s expression was pensive. One of his hands stroked down Adil’s side, coming to rest between his legs. “And if I don’t want to put a pin in it?” he asked.

Adil huffed out a sigh, wondering if he would ever be able to keep up with Toby’s brain. He reached out a hand to return the touch, bringing his other hand up to curl in Toby’s hair.

“You can say stop at any point,” he mumbled, as Toby’s tongue came out to meet his own. “And I’ll talk you through the first bit, so it’s not – ah, painful. For me.”

Toby pulled back enough to stare at him.

“Just initially,” Adil corrected. “It’s been a while.”

Toby’s body squirmed on top of his, wiggling like a snake. Adil had to resist grabbing Toby’s face and biting him. He wanted this to be controlled; slow.

“Love you, love you, love you, love you,” Toby whispered in his ear, moving down to kiss his neck. 

Adil forgot about slow.

*

Afterwards they lay flat on their backs, Adil draped halfway over Toby’s body. His head was on Toby’s chest, and he didn’t think he could move at all. He was almost asleep when Toby nudged him. 

“So,” Toby said. One of his hands ran down Adil’s side, finding the ticklish part of his ribs. Adil squirmed away, kicking Toby’s shins in rebuke. “Was that alright for you?”

“Mmmhm,” Adil said lazily, reaching out a hand to pat Toby’s thigh haphazardly. “T’was incredible. You truly have a gift.” 

Toby pinched his arm, trailing his fingers upwards to increase the tickling sensation.

“Be serious. Was that how it usually goes? Was it the same as when you did it before? How can I – improve?” 

Adil badly wanted to fall asleep. 

“You were lovely,” he said, yawning for emphasis. “I feel very loved and very worn out. Good job.”

Toby made Adil yelp when he sat up, ducking out from beneath his arm and letting Adil thump back onto the sheets. Adil tried to roll into the pillows but Toby stopped him with a hand on his leg. In the end he was forced to sit up against the headboard, blinking hard.

Toby looked wide awake. He was staring at Adil with an extremely attentive expression, like he was trying to read his mind.

“First question,” Adil said, around another yawn. 

Toby sat cross-legged on the bed. “Was it the same as when you were with the other bloke?” His hand was still on Adil’s calf, stroking self-consciously. “I think I can do better. It’s just, it was the first time so…”

Adil shook himself slightly more awake. “You were better,” he said, honestly. His last and only lover had been sweaty and non-talkative. They had not even been on first name terms.

“Right,” Toby said, appeased. “And did you like – I mean did you…” 

“Toby, it was brilliant. Perfect.”

It was no word of a lie. Their encounter had been frenzied and slightly out of breath (not the measured, romantic first time Adil had pictured) but it had been incredible. He crawled across the bed until he was sat on his knees in front of Toby. 

“And for you?” he asked. 

Toby face lit up into a hesitant smile. “I feel – good.” Adil touched his mouth with the pad of his thumb, tracing over the top lip. “I keep waiting for the doubt and the shame to kick in. Right now I just feel…lucky.” 

Adil leaned forwards into Toby’s body, stroking both hands through his hair. 

“What a wonderful time to be alive,” Adil whispered against his ear. Toby’s arms were around his back, rubbing against his spine and shoulders. “Welcome to the brave new world, Mr Hamilton.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this initially, but I wanted to encourage everyone else to keep writing for this fandom - we are small but mighty!  
> As always, thank you for reading and commenting :)


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